Adrian's briefcase
by gypsy rosalie
Summary: In which Adrian attempts to make his family appreciate his success in real estate. Belated giftfic for Shell.


**Another belated giftfic. This one is for the lovely seashell77, who wrote me a splendid Joetina for Christmas and has been a wonderful friend to me for these past 2 years. Just a little silly, Adrian-centric piece. Hope you like.**

**Set before the show starts.**

* * *

It sat there on the kitchen table in front of him, all shiny and new and…wonderful. It wasn't very expensive, it wasn't even real leather, but that didn't matter to Adrian. It was classy. It was what he needed. And most importantly it was _his._ He had bought it himself, with his own wages, which he'd earned for doing his _own job_.

And that made the briefcase absolutely perfect. It symbolised his graduation into the real world- the proper world of decent employment and bonuses and promotions and _yes sir_s, of responsibility, a world miles away from the land of skulduggery his brothers inhabited. Today he was a proper man. A provider- and in the right way.

Adrian laid the briefcase down flat and popped the locks open, listening to the satisfying click and breathing in the smell of the interior. It may not have been leather, but it still smelt good- it smelt of success. Now all he had to do was work out what to put in it.

The front door slammed, and paper bags rustled as Nellie shuffled into the kitchen, loaded down with groceries. If it had been any other day, Adrian would have gotten up at once and gone to help her, but his mind was clouded with excitement, the only thought in his head one of showing off his shiny new purchase.

'Mam.'

Nellie pushed past him, slamming her bags down on the counter.

'Honestly, Adrian, would it have killed you to have taken a couple of bags? This real estate job's making a snob of you, if you think you're above helping with the shopping…'

'But Mam, look!' he gesture to the open case, unable to help himself from doing a little bit of a gesture.

'Adrian, will you get that mess out of the way? I'm running a kitchen 'ere, not a clutter-factory. I need that space to lay the plates!'

'But, Mam, it's a-'

'Go and put your mess away, Adrian! I want to cook in here!' Nellie's voice was climbing in pitch, a sure sign the stress was mounting. It wouldn't be sensible, he realised, to continue to pester her just now, and so, with a disappointed sigh, he gathered up his belongings and relocated them to the parlour. Oh, well. He'd catch her later, when she was in a good mood. In the meantime, maybe his brothers would appreciate the briefcase.

No sooner had Adrian sat down than the front door banged open. He raised his head, part of him still expecting Freddie to march in, a beam in his face and a _hello, sweetheart!_ on his lips. Of course, that was impossible, given the circumstances, the wandering that had taken place and a red-haired husband-stealer- and Adrian knew it- but his hopes, which had risen just a little bit anyway, sank back down as Billy stomped into the living room, buttons on his school shirt all in the wrong holes, blazer lost to Heaven-knows-where, trousers an inch above his socks. He tossed his satchel onto the sofa, and Adrian hastily snatched up his briefcase before it was squashed by his little brother's overstuffed bag.

'Do you mind?!' he yelped, gently running his hand over the imitation leather. If Billy put a scratch in this on its first day, well, Adrian would snap. It was bad enough the little monster had jeered at his work suits- if he mocked this case, the very symbol of Adrian's responsibility, he would be in for it (and so, thought Adrian miserably, would his own nerves.)

'What's up _your _nose, then?' Billy demanded, kicking off his shoes and sticking his feet up on the table. He snatched up the telly clicker and flicked through the channels until the rowdy sounds of some tacky, mid-afternoon soap opera filled the house.

'What is 'up my nose', as you put it with your limited vocabulary,' Adrian snapped, annoyed now, 'is that you don't care about anything, do you? You just barge in here, fling your rubbish about and subject us all to the odour of your socks, and carelessly almost destroy _my brand-new briefcase!_

Adrian held it up, pointing to it rather viciously with his spare hand. Billy looked up from the telly long enough to peer gormlessly at it, in that way of his which cheapened everything his eyes fell upon. Adrian swallowed, knowing, just _knowing_ that whatever his brother was about to say next would cause him to sink into a deep depression.

'What've you gone and bought that for? You goin' on an 'oliday?'

'It's not a suitcase,' Adrian said, 'it's a _briefcase_!'

'Well, you won't fit many clothes in there,' said Billy. 'Mind you, if you only 'ave to fit your briefs in there it'll probably do- but if all you take on this 'oliday is a change of underwear, your clothes are gonna start to smell, aren't they…'

'Oh, would you listen to 'im! What are they teachin' you at that school? A briefcase doesn't mean a suitcase for briefs!'

'And what'll you do about pyjamas? You're not gonna do like those Europeans do and sleep naked, are yer? What about yer rash?'

'_It's not an underwear case!'_ Adrian shouted at the top of his lungs. A deathly silence ensued. From the corner of his eye, Adrian saw Nellie come into the doorway, Cross herself in his direction and return to the kitchen.

Adrian took a deep, calming breath, trying to steady himself. Billy was still staring up at him in confusion.

'It's for work,' he said quietly. 'I bought it to take to work.'

This added an extra crease to Billy's forehead.

'What d'you wanna take your briefs to work for?'

Adrian gave up trying to explain.

* * *

'_And_ how do you expect to say prayers with a briefcase clutched in your hands?' Nellie demanded.

Adrian reluctantly took his hands off the corners of his case, trying to balance it on his lap as he folded them in front of him.

'I bought it for work today, Mam!' he said proudly, hoping that this time, now they were sat round the table waiting for the others and Nellie had nowhere else to look, she could give it some proper attention.

'So 'e can take his underpants to the office,' Billy added helpfully.

'Oh, will you stop it about the underpants?! I've already explained that's not what a briefcase is!'

'That's enough about this briefcase,' Nellie snapped. 'It's time for prayers!'

Adrian shut his mouth, thoroughly disappointed.

'Joey! Jack! Aveline!' his Mam called. 'Dinner is READY!'

'Okay, okay,' came Jack's holler from somewhere in the house.

'Ar, 'ey, Mam! Me hair's still wet!' Aveline's squeal followed, and then the model appeared in the kitchen doorway, hair dripping in rats' tails around her face and little droplets flicking on Adrian as she sat down.

'Do you mind?' he hastily brushed off the stray drops that had hit his case. 'You've nearly gotten me briefcase all wet!' First Billy's satchel, and now this. It wasn't fair, really, it wasn't.

'Well, I have to wash me hair, don't I?' his sister protested, without so much as a glance at his new prized possession. 'Bein' a model means it 'as to look silky and clean!'

Oh, her hair, her modelling- couldn't she ever talk about- or indeed, think about- anything else? At all?

'Greetings!'

As usual, any sort of row brewing died down upon Joey's entrance- man-of-the-house Joey, substitute Dad Joey, Joey who'd done extremely well for himself and gone and bought himself a truckload of expensive things. Of course, they all gushed over his accoutrements and his shiny Jag. When Joey was a success, they were all terribly proud of him. When Aveline was a success, coming home having starred in a new black-and-white, low-grade magazine advert, they were all proud of her. When Adrian went out and got himself sensible employment, they couldn't care less. Well, that was about to change. His hopes were hinging on the briefcase- if only they'd look at it, see him properly in the role of the businessman for the first time, be as pleased with him as they were with Joey, he would die a happy man.

Joey strode over to his usual seat, making sitting down somehow look like an art form, closely followed by Jack, who, after rushing in, dishevelled and covered in some form of dust, provided a polar opposite by stomping grumpily to his own chair and nearly tipping it over when he slammed himself into it.

'It's not fair, is it?' Jack was saying now. 'How is it that you 'ave all the luck? You sell a paintin', you get five 'undred quid. I sell one, I end up with a tenner and two bunches o' grapes!'

'It's called brilliance,' Joey said nonchalantly, stretching his arms in front of him.

'And I come 'ome to a boastful brother, a skin-cream snowman for a sister, 'im…' he pointed at Billy, who looked over his shoulder before realising whom Jack was referring to.

Adrian sighed, wrapping an arm back around his briefcase.

'Oh, and 'e's got a pouf 'andbag now an' all!'

'Oh, for goodness' sake!' Adrian snapped. 'It's a _briefcase!_ Can't anyone appreciate what that means? It's a smart case that I can take to work- _not_ for underwear…' he held up a finger as Billy started to speak. 'It's a sign of my success- my permanent job. And all you've done is ignore it, disrespect it and then pick it to pieces! My dignity is 'angin' by a thread! 'Angin' by a thread!' He ended this dramatic speech by putting his head in his hands.

A hush fell over the table.

'Let's have a look at it, then, eh?'

Joey was the first to break the silence, and Adrian's heart began to lift at the request. For all Joey's braggishness, Adrian couldn't say with any degree of honesty that he wasn't a caring soul. Relieved and thankful for at least one family remember who took the slightest bit of interest in anything he did, Adrian handed it over for his brother to inspect.

'Yeah, that's great, son,' Joey said enthusiastically, turning it around in his hands and being remonstrated by Nellie for nearly knocking the chicken lid off the pot, and then lying it across his lap and opening it.

'Very nice, Adrian,' he repeated. 'Very sophisticated. Should serve you well, that.'

He passed it back over and Adrian, beaming with pride, set it down beside his chair.

'And maybe,' Joey said, dashing Adrian's hopes once again with his comment, 'one day you'll be able to afford a _real_ leather one.'

* * *

'I can show _you_ my briefcase. _You're_ proud of my accomplishments,' Adrian shifted on the bed, undoing and redoing the top button of his pyjamas. 'And if I tell _you_ I want to look the part for me job in real estate, you'll understand how much it means to me, won't you? I mean, I've got decent work- and I just want them to notice me for doing something honest and good and true, and…and noble…'

He lifted his hand, holding the stuffed bunny aloft.

'Well. You know what I mean.'

Glancing around just to make sure none of his brothers had come into the room, he kissed the toy bunny and laid it carefully in the briefcase, wrapping a handkerchief around it as though tucking it in.

'Yeah,' he said, shutting the lid with a gentle click and climbing into bed. '_You_ know what I mean.'


End file.
